Saturday, August 14, 2010

Chinook Sling Load Training

Today I got a call at 11 am from our Command Sgt. Maj. saying I needed to get to the south side of the airstrip as soon as possible.  Our Bravo Company set up sling load training for the 2-28th Brigade Support Battalion, the soldiers who support the 55th (Heavy) Combat Brigade.

Sling loads are anything that can be carried underneath a Chinook helicopter by hooking heavy cables and lifting.  In the morning, it was a Humvee.  In the afternoon pallets so large they could not fit inside the Chinook.


Thursday, August 12, 2010

Restrepo

Yesterday I watched Restrepo, the movie about the worst corner of the war in Afghanistan.

Here's the trailer:


Both the movie and the book War both by Sebastian Junger, are about a year in Afghanistan with an infantry company assigned to the Korengal Valley.  Although based on the same year, the book and movie are very different, even focusing on different soldiers.

The movie is a documentary, but faster.  It doesn't explain, but shows what life is like.  And the soldiers on camera are more candid than I ever would have expected.  The commander of the unit busts on his predecessor so much I hope those two are never assigned to the same unit in the future.

I watch so few movies--this is my first in 2010--that I can't compare Restrepo to other films.  But I can tell you that I find many war movies silly or funny or both.  I wasn't laughing during Restrepo.  I was leaned forward in my theater seat and stayed all the way through the final credits.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

More from Jim Dao, NY Times about Afghanistan

Jim Dao of the NY Times is following a combat unit on their entire deployment to Afghanistan from pre-deployment through the getting back home.  Here's the latest installment.

There's some funny stuff about all the things that go wrong with a  new unit on its first mission.  It's front-page of the print edition today for those who read the old fashioned way.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Talking About Dante Again

Followers of this blog know I had a "Dead Poets Society" book group in Iraq beginning last July.  The first book we read was Inferno by Dante Aligheri, translated by Tony Esolen.  Yesterday I was talking to the editor of the magazine at my day job about science education and Dante came up.  Our magazine is Chemical Heritage.

We were talking about the construction and location of Hell--Inferno is a guided tour of Hell down to the center of the earth and out the other side.

By the way, for any of you who had a bad education or read Thomas Friedman, Dante wrote 200 years before Columbus sailed and knew the size of the earth within about 10% of its actual size--as did everyone in the Church at the time Columbus sailed.   All that Flat Earth stuff connected to Columbus is bullsh#t.

The whole conversation was fun, but the most interesting thing to me was the vote at the end of the reading Inferno.  The group decided by a small majority to reading Aeneid next, not Purgatorio, the second volume in Dante's trilogy of eternity.  The group came to admire Virgil and wanted to know why he was Dante's guide through Hell.  Several of the soldiers were also upset with Dante for sending Virgil back to Hell when he (Dante) went to Heaven.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Unfriending on Facebook

Unfriending is an ugly word.  But in the virtual world it is very easy to make a friend you know very little about.  Most of the friends I have on Facebook are people I know in real life.  By category most are

  • Riding buddies
  • Army buddies
  • High school classmates
  • College friends
But there are some people whom I have never actually met.  Some of them follow my blog, some were on online discussion groups I participated in.

Last week, I unfriended a guy I have never met in person, but we have traded opinions for a few years.  He is a very smart guy who fires back hard whenever he thinks he is right or the other person is wrong--which is mostly all the time in my experience.  His Facebook comments can go to hundreds of words.  Anyway, I never minded his dismissive comments because I asked for them by being equally dismissive of him.  But last week I posted something that got positive comments from two "live" friends and scorn from the other guy.  Rather than confine his scorn to me, he lit into my college friend and my former co-worker.  

At that point all the protective instincts in me said this is wrong.  I should not allow my facebook page to be a WWE event.  I also sent my former Facebook friend a message saying why I hit the unfriend button.

There are many things I like about the virtual world.  But if a man is on your turf and insults your friends, it is clear that the relationship is in serious trouble.  In the virtual world, physical presence cannot put a brake on bad manners.  

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Back to Riding for the Team

Today was a small but important milestone on my road back to racing.  And I am not talking about contending for wins.  At its best, my ability to sprint is about equal to the acceleration of a fully loaded tanker truck going uphill. 

But bicycling really is a team sport and my place on the BiKyle/Mazur Coaching Main Line Cycling team is helping the riders who can climb/sprint to win races.  Today’s race for the 55+ riders was 20 laps of a one-mile serpentine loop at the Rodale Fitness Park in Trexlertown PA.  The twisting circle is wide, smooth and has a flat, straight run to the finish.  Perfect for sprinters.

Only 18 riders started our race and three of them were in the 65+ category.  Three members of my team, Dave Nesler, David Frankford and I, were on the start line.  Nesler is a good sprinter, but there were a few very good sprinters in the so Dave would need to go before a pack sprint and stay away to win the race. 

The race started off slow with a few attacks that raised the pace.  When the speed dropped below 23mph, someone would occasionally attack.  Above 23mph the pack stayed in a line and rode wheel of the guy out front.  Riding out front of a pack means working about 30% harder than everyone else.  The guy out front is giving up energy.  The sweet spot is to be in the middle of the pack, surrounded by other riders who block the wind.

With six laps to go, I rode from the back (where I was resting from the last attack) and asked Dave if he would be better off with the pack going faster or slower.  He said slower.  Less than a minute later, Barry Free took off at the front and I followed him.  Once I was on his wheel Barry sat up and the pack was on us in a few seconds.  Rather than drop back, I stayed on the front of the pack, keeping my average speed as close to 23mph as I could--fast enough that no one wanted to raise the pace.

About 1/4 of the way around the final lap, the pack went around me to the left.  I started to swing to the right to get out of the way, but Dave decided to attack down the right.  He yelled, I inched left and he took off.

His move didn't last the whole way around.  I did not see the end of the race, because as soon as the pack went around me, I rode at half speed for the rest of the final lap.

Dave didn't win, Chip Berezny sprinted to the take top prize.  But at least I am back enough to contribute to the team.   

Friday, August 6, 2010

Piss Bottles

In writing about daily life in Iraq, I neglected to write about Gatorade bottles.  Specifically, empty Gatorade bottles.  I never went anywhere without one.  I never had to use the one I kept in my backpack whenever I boarded a helicopter flight, but I always had one.

Neither Blackhawks nor Chinooks have latrines.  And as some of their crew like to say, "We can stay up for hours."  In any case, I made sure to hit the latrine before boarding every flight and had that bottle just in case the Blackhawk had to stay up longer than I could wait.

In all the convoy training we did at Fort Sill and in Kuwait, I had that same empty bottle just in case that convoy kept moving.

And I kept an empty bottle in my CHU, just in case. . .

My commander once announced that he only relieves himself three times a day.  Any more than that is a waste of time.  I agreed with him in principle, but in actual fact, I am 57 years old and that kind of schedule is a long way in my past.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Writing for the blog Periodic Tabloid: gravity and Pseudoscience


Recently the lead article in the Science Times profiled a string theorist who claims gravity does not exist.  
Instead, physicist Erik Verlinde says “gravity is a consequence of the venerable laws of thermodynamics, which describe the behavior of heat and gases.” Verlinde is not denying the phenomenon nor expecting pigs to fly, he just wants to describe why gravity keeps us firmly on Earth.

Theories do have a history of falling out of favor. In the late 1600s, both Christiaan Huygens and Isaac Newton developed useful and mutually exclusive theories of how light travels. For Huygens, light was waves. For Newton, particles. Huygens got a big boost from Augustin-Jean Fresnel in the early 1800s when the French scientist described light as waves in the omnipresent ether.

Almost a century later, the ether theory was found to be false. And in the 20th century both the wave and particle theories of light turned out to be true at the same time.

As a history of science organization, CHF follows the fortunes of theories from their inception through their ascendance and acceptance, and on to their demise. We may one day see the demise of the theory of universal gravitation. Theories, as a rule, rise slowly and fitfully and fall like a rock tossed off a building—gravity accepted as true for now. In all science, minority positions like Verlinde’s are part of every discipline. But sometimes these minority positions leave science and go another way.

As such CHF also tracks the history of pseudoscience. For us, the rise of a theory that never gains scientific acceptance is as interesting as one that wins acceptance as a way of understanding material reality. For example, why did creation science evolve and thrive in the United States, just as this country became the world leader in science? In the middle of a country that boasts Caltech, MIT, Harvard, Stanford, Apple, Intel, and Genentech sits the Creation Museum near Louisville, Kentucky. Inside Cain and Abel play with pet dinosaurs and the speed of light is considered variable.

Scientific theories are some of the most ingenious products of the human mind when based in fact. But even when they are not, the history of science in all of its forms is fascinating.
Published here.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Visiting Pittsburgh--Nigel's First Foster Family

Today we got up at 3:45 am to drive to Pittsburgh for a math conference where my wife is a presenter.  Our girls are working, traveling and otherwise occupied so only Nigel and Jacari came on the trip.  Annalisa had meetings from 10am till 230pm then she and the boys drove to Dormont, 9 miles south of Pittsburgh to visit Nigel's first foster family.  I rode there and got a chance to ride over Pittsburgh's Mount Washington, while they drove through the same mountain in the Liberty Tunnel.

The Sharbaugh family cared for Nigel for the first six weeks of his life--from when he left the hospital the day after he was born until six weeks later when we picked Nigel up and brought him to our home from their home.

The Sharbaughs cared for Nigel and 11 other newborn children in the first weeks of their lives, then turned them over to other families.  Wow!

I admire them very much in the same way I admire running backs who can smash though hulking linemen or hockey players who can speed skate and shoot a blazing slap shot all in one motion.  The Sharbaughs, the running back and the hockey player all can do something I can't do.

Imagine taking care of a newborn for weeks and weeks and then handing that little baby over to strangers--not once, but a dozen times.  I can't.  They are one amazing family.  I'm glad we had a chance to visit them and get reacquainted ten years after they cared for baby Nigel.

[In case you were wondering, we are Nigel's second foster family.  It was almost a year before all the paperwork was approved for the adoption.]

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Some of my Favorite Quotes from Women in Iraq

"The biggest stress for me is calling home"--female soldier in Iraq whose family expressed their fear & anger to her, not to her Sergeant brother.


"I wanna light some mutha fu*ka's up"--20-year-old woman I served with disappointed when we did not pull convoy security.

"This place is all drama and no action."--SFC Melanie McCracken, Chinook Maintenance Platoon Sergeant, Tallil Ali Air Base, Iraq.


And the one that applies to every place from the beginning of time:

Stupid Should Hurt!
SFC Pam Bleuel, Drill Sergeant and convoy training NCOIC


Monday, August 2, 2010

Quote for Today

In times of war, you often hear leaders--Christian, Jewish, and Muslim--saying, "God is on our side."  But that isn't true.  In war, God is on the side of refugees, widows, and orphans.

Greg Mortenson, as quoted in "Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace . . . One School at a Time", Penguin Books (2007) p. 239

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Porthos Dies in the Night

When Annalisa and I were married 13 years ago yesterday, she had three cats--Athos, Porthos and Aramis.  They are the Three Musketeers if you ready old books or watch bad movies.  Of course the main Musketeer is D'Artagnan, and that is one criticism of the story for most of the past two centuries.

Actually, Aramis, who spent way too much time sitting in the middle of streets, died just before we were married.  Athos, the more adventurous of the two remaining brothers, lived several years longer, but also succumbed to injuries from spending just that extra moment in the road.

Porthos lived a fairly long life for a cat.  He and his brother Athos were excellent hunters.  They left the remains of mice and baby bunnies near the back door so we could see how proficient they were in small furry animal population control.  After the demise of Athos, Porthos was less inclined to hunt and, like many older carnivores, put on a lot of weight.  At his weight peak, his hind feet would disappear under his fat when he sat down.

But like some obese people, he managed to remain healthy despite a sedentary lifestyle.  In the last year he rapidly lost weight.  Last night when I switched the laundry at midnight, Porthos was asleep on a small rug.  He didn't move when I turned the light on, but I thought I saw him breathing.  The next morning he had not moved.  I checked.  He was not breathing.

Porthos is buried in the flower garden near our garage between Athos and our dog Lucky.

We will be getting a dog in September after we return from vacation.  We had been planning to get a dog for a while and now we won't have to worry that a new and energetic dog will torment our geriatric feline.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Flat Out of Luck

This morning I woke up at 0430 to drive 2 1/2 hours to a time trial race.  The 20km race was the Master State Championship.  It's not my favorite kind of race but I need the practice for the qualifying races for the National Senior Games.  I also volunteered to help clean up after the race since it was jointly sponsored by my race team, BiKyle/Mazur Coaching, and the Quaker City Wheelmen.

My start time was 0835:30.  I started warming up at eight.  I felt really good after the warmup.  The course was out and back beside a lake.  It started gently uphill then rolled through a series of rolling up and hills and flats.  I started fast and felt good, 26mph on the initial, hill 29mph on the flat.  I was flying, probably too fast.  But it didn't matter because 1/2 mile inI hit one of the little rocks on the edge of the road and heard--hissssssssssssssssss.

And my race was over.


Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Reunion Group Photo

Don DeMetz sent me this photo of the reunion group.  We are meeting again in August next year, probably in Colorado Springs.

Monday, July 26, 2010

The Royal Order of the Shim

Sometimes it is hard for a civilian to imagine the power an Army commander has compared to his civilian counterpart.  In my last post, I mentioned that as a tank commander, a sergeant in charge of three men and a very large vehicle, I could make my crew go out for gunnery practice after their friends went back to the barracks and on weekends.  If one of my soldiers screwed up--usually involving alcohol--I could put them on as much extra duty as I was willing to personally supervise.

And I was just a new sergeant.  The battalion commander, the man in charge of 54 tanks, 60-odd trucks and 600 men had even more latitude.  Our commander from 77 to 79 in Germany was Lt. Col. Richard Goldsmith.  He was a genial young (mid-30s) commander with a lovely wife, three kids, and an iron will when he was sure he was right.

Rich Goldsmith created a tradition that was carried on until the unit 1-70th Armor was disbanded in 1984:  The Royal Order of the Shim.  Soon after he took command, Goldsmith became convinced that the problem our tanks had with breaking tracks was caused by a mis-alignment of the front road wheels.  He believed that adding a steel shim to the inside of these wheels would cure the broken track problem.

Our motor officer, Mr. Scanlon, our exec officer, Major Roper, and many others thought this was a bad idea.  The manufacturer said the problem was the result of the rubber pads in the tracks for driving on roads.  Goldsmith was undeterred by experts.  Roper tried to dissuade him.  Goldsmith's response, "What part of 'Get it done' did you not understand?"

The shims were installed on two tanks with eight hours of work.  The tanks drove less than two miles before their tracks broke.

It took another eight hours to remove the shims.

These shims, by the way, were 12 inches round and 1/3 inch thick steel rings.  They were heavy.

Mr. Scanlon welded a three-foot length of tow chain to the shim, making a 30-pound necklace.  At the next officer's call, Goldsmith became the first recipient of the shim.  It was passed on at each officer's call for the next six years to the officer judged by the current wearer of the shim as having made the stupidest mistake since the last meeting.

By missing his plane and not showing up for the reunion dinner on Saturday night, Goldsmith became the final recipient of the shim, which was retired to his safekeeping on Sunday morning.

Some of us enlisted men had the motto:

"When we do good, no one remembers, when we do wrong they never forget" stenciled on helmets and other gear.

It looks like the officers had the same motto.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

70th Armor Reunion Dinner

Today my kids and I left Georgetown, Kentucky, at 11 am and drove south for five 1/2 hours to Chattanooga, Tennessee, for the 1-70th Armor Reunion Dinner.  Lauren and Lisa both dressed up for dinner.  Nigel wore his best digital camo t-shirt.  I was, as it turned out, in the proper uniform--khaki's and a dress shirt--but the really cool guys and all of the organizers were wearing Land's End polo shirts with Strike Swiftly Tankers logos:


One of the first people I met on the way in the door was Captain Paul Davis, my company commander from the time I joined the 70th Armor in late 1975 until he was reassigned in Germany in early 1977.  Davis was a great commander for a new tanker moving over from the Air Force.  My first assignment was as gunner for Sgt. Ralph Plowman, a tough old guy (almost 30 I think!) from Alabama who taught me a lot about gunnery and taught me by example how to lead a crew.  I got my own tank several months later.  My first crew was, like me, inexperienced.  Davis let me take my crew out for extra training on weekends, after regular motor pool work hours.  He really let NCOs run their own show.  My crew fired Distinguished (top 10%) first time out at least partly because we practiced more than any other crew.

Sitting with Davis was Joh

Saturday, July 24, 2010

70th Armor Reunion Dinner

Today my kids and I left Georgetown, Kentucky, at 11 am and drove south for five 1/2 hours to Chattanooga, Tennessee, for the 1-70th Armor Reunion Dinner.  Lauren and Lisa both dressed up for dinner.  Nigel wore his best digital camo t-shirt.  I was, as it turned out, in the proper uniform--khaki's and a dress shirt--but the really cool guys and all of the organizers were wearing Land's End polo shirts with Strike Swiftly Tankers logos:


One of the first people I met on the way in the door was Captain Paul Davis, my company commander from the time I joined the 70th Armor in late 1975 until he was reassigned in Germany in early 1977.  Davis was a great commander for a new tanker moving over from the Air Force.  My first assignment was as gunner for Sgt. Ralph Plowman, a tough old guy (almost 30 I think!) from Alabama who taught me a lot about gunnery and taught me by example how to lead a crew.  I got my own tank several months later.  My first crew was, like me, inexperienced.  Davis let me take my crew out for extra training on weekends, after regular motor pool work hours.  He really let NCOs run their own show.  My crew fired Distinguished (top 10%) first time out at least partly because we practiced more than any other crew.

Sitting with Paul Davis was John Hubbard, our supply sergeant in Colorado Springs and in Germany.  John is three months younger than me.  I met him when we were both 22.  Like many people meeting John for the first time, I thought he was somewhere between 30 and 40 years old.   John was balding and  15 pounds overweight when he was 22.  Thirty-five years later he did not look much different than when we met in 1975.  Things even out with age for some people.  

I'll add more people in future posts.  More than 100 people attended the dinner including 80 soldiers who served with the 1-70th between 1976 and 1984.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Reunion at Pam's House

Today, reunion weekend started with a long drive.  We drove all day to Kentucky and had dinner with Pam Bleuel.  She returned from Iraq six weeks ago after extending her tour to 18 months.  Pam and her husband Mike have three college-age daughters.  In Iraq Pam and I would talk about the joys and difficulties of having college age girls, and the obvious difficulty of being 6000 miles from home.

She posted a picture of us here.

As I expected, Pam's kids are polite, funny, and delightful to be around.  Pam was as tough as motorcycle racing leather in her job training soldiers for convoy security duty in Iraq.  She is a math teacher in a local high school when she is not on active duty in the Army.  Two of her of her former students dropped in while were at Pam's house and told funny stories of Pam scaring local kids who did not do their homework or misbehaved in class.  Like most strict teachers, she has a loyal following of students who love her.

Nigel thought dinner was wonderful.  Two of his favorite foods were on the menu:  barbequed chicken and garlic croutons.  He had thirds on chicken.  He even skipped dessert for another piece of chicken.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Getting Ready for the 1-70th Armor Reunion

Tomorrow I will be driving to Georgetown, Kentucky, with three of my kids on the way to the reunion of the 1st Battalion, 70th Armor.  It's the unit I served with in West Germany from 1976-79.

The reunion is in Chattanooga, but we are stopping for dinner tomorrow with Sgt. First Class Pam Bleuel and her family.  She also has three college age daughters, so dinner should be fun.  Pam extended her tour in Iraq for an additional six months to continue training soldiers in convoy security.  Almost as soon as she extended, she started working at a desk--which did not make her happy.

Next month she will return to work as a math teacher in Georgetown, Kentucky.  I can't wait to make bad jokes with her again and meet her family.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Tattoo Intro on NYC Bike Trail

Yesterday after an all-day conference in NYC, I rode the Hudson River bike trail from Lower Manhattan to the George Washington Bridge.  What an awesome place to ride.

On the way back from the GW, I turned of the trail at 79th St. riding toward Central Park.  While I waited at the traffic light where the trail turns onto the streets, a guy riding in an expensive-looking suit rolled up behind me and said, "No shit! First Armored.  I served with them in '69.  I hated Fort Hood."

We rode a few blocks together.  He told me he was a draftee, served two years and got out.  Judging by the Upper West Side place he lived, he did really well for himself after making $148 a month in the late 60s Army.

As I rode on toward the park, he thanked me for my service, and I thanked him for his.  I am sure I get a lot more thank you's than he ever got.  When I got the tattoo I was hoping for this very kind of thing, running into other soldiers who served--and ride bicycles.

Not So Supreme: A Conference about the Constitution, the Courts and Justice

Hannah Arendt At the end of the first week in March, I went to a conference at Bard College titled: Between Power and Authority: Arendt on t...